Chapter 182: Attracting Attention

A pitch-black, viscous substance, neither truly solid nor ethereal, erupted from the wounds where the daggers had pierced the bodies.

The formal knight of Sewentan unleashed the greatest volume of this obsidian matter, and being the closest, the black substance instantly engulfed the entire squad of soldiers who had come to investigate.

"!" Kevin’s reaction was swift. Allowing them to approach had been a ruse to lure the Sewentan knight into a trap, and upon noticing the abnormal behavior of the knight pinned by the blades, he immediately chose to retreat.

But the distance was too short. The Sewentan knight had sacrificed his life to close the gap to a mere sword’s length, ensuring that this sudden eruption was impossible to evade.

The moment these black, non-corporeal entities burst from the knight’s wounds, they began to dart spontaneously toward every soldier in the vicinity.

The speed was blinding. At such close range, only a few soldiers managed to raise their shields in a futile attempt to block the ominous substance.

Yet, the black matter ignored the shields entirely, passing through them without the slightest interaction; its target was clear, and its target was the soldiers themselves.

Sooner or later, within a very short span of time, every soldier from the Sighing Canyon outpost who had come to inspect the Night-Walkers found a part of their body touched by the black substance.

As the matter made contact, it melted into their flesh without hesitation, vanishing into the bodies of those it touched.

A moment later, with a heavy thud, the bodies collapsed without warning onto the ash-covered ground of the camp, kicking up a cloud of gray dust.

"Ugh..." Kevin clutched his forehead, struggling to take a few steps forward. He knew this was a psychic attack.

The mark left by the "Darkness of Heaven," intended to ward off Void-born mental corruption, was stirring within his soul, and the needle-like agony in his brow revealed the true nature of what he was fighting.

His status as a member of the Night’s Edge granted him a stronger will than the average soldier.

The black substance that had entered his body only left his mind in chaos and his spirit reeling in agony; he had not yet suffered the total mental collapse that had claimed the others.

"Lady of the Night..." he gasped, struggling to recite the name of the deity he had newly sworn to. His tortured mind fought to bring the necessary prayers to his lips.

"I..." At that moment, the black substance released by the other Night-Walkers as they drove daggers into their own bodies began to reach the soldiers.

It touched Kevin, the only one still standing, and seeped into his body, resuming its assault on his soul.

His vision blurred, and pitch-black shadows obscured the scenery that should have been illuminated by his night vision.

"Request..." The psychic pain reached a threshold and ceased to intensify, replaced by a strange, creeping numbness and lethargy.

"Sys..." His lips trembled as he uttered the final syllable. His heavy eyelids slammed shut, and his sturdy frame collapsed like the others onto the ash-strewn ground.

The Alastair Sighing Wall outpost fell into a deathly silence. There was no sound of life; the smoldering embers died out once their fuel was exhausted, and the sparks ceased to dance, leaving only darkness and stillness.

Long after, the sound of distant hooves broke the silence.

...

At the Alastair frontline field infirmary, a soldier dressed as a healer reported to a tall, burly officer clad in heavy armor, his back emblazoned with a crest of roaring flames.

"General Black, all thirty-some soldiers on duty are confirmed dead. The cause of death is soul disintegration. The source of the attack remains unknown, and the principles are under analysis, but it is certain they suffered extreme psychic shock before death. You may look at their expressions yourself."

The healer, sporting deep dark circles under his eyes, walked to a table covered by a white sheet behind Black Burn, the frontline commander of the Alastair army, and spoke calmly.

He pulled the sheet away, revealing two relatively intact corpses that had not been disfigured by the embers.

"Hmm. These men must have faced immense terror. This terror, exceeding all limits, is the cause of their demise."

The officer, known as the Flame Warrior and possessing the strength of a Grand Knight, glanced at the soldiers’ horrific faces and rendered his judgment.

Their features were hideously twisted, as if they had faced something that made their very souls tremble. The muscles of their brows and faces had contorted with such violence that the skin had torn, leaving bloody, jagged wounds.

The gruesome expressions and the tragic state of the bodies would cause instinctive discomfort to any observer, but to Black Burn, a veteran Grand Knight, it was nothing.

"If the scum of Sewentan want war, then let it be war. Do they truly think it is like it was hundreds of years ago, where they could win a war through sheer bravado and ferocity?"

"The resources of that frigid land, combined with magic and alchemy that have seen no breakthroughs in years, dictate that they cannot defeat us. Since they have initiated this decisive battle, let us ensure Sewentan is wiped from the stage of this continent."

The Flame Warrior, Black Burn, spoke in a low, majestic voice, his tone imbued with a confidence and presence few possessed.

"Have the Ordnance Department coordinate with three standard units to go to the front and build fortifications. Remember to send a squad of combat mages skilled in earth magic to accelerate the progress." The order was issued.

"Yes!"

His subordinate, who had been waiting in the tent, quickly accepted the order and left to relay it.

Black turned his gaze back to the healer. "What of Kevin? I recall he is a member of the Night’s Edge. He should not be dead; he is likely in a coma or catatonic. Can we extract any information from him?"

"Outpost Commander Kevin’s condition is unique. He is not dead, but in a coma. Notably, he lacks the residual erosion marks found on the other soldiers, and the 'Darkness of Heaven' mark in his soul has not been triggered."

"His state is strange. Rather than suffering soul collapse from erosion, it is as if he is trapped in a nightmare. He remains unconscious because, it seems, he does not wish to wake up."

The healer consulted a small notebook he kept tucked under his arm, confirming the medical team's assessment.

"Hmm... take me to see him." Black paused briefly before following the healer.

They moved deeper into the infirmary, into a restricted area where the equipment was far more refined and expensive than in the outer wards.

For the healer, who served as the director of the infirmary, and the commander, Black Burn, such restrictions were meaningless.

In a room of solid rock forged by earth mages, Kevin lay on a bed, surrounded by an array of alchemical devices.

Physicians were adjusting the equipment, collecting and analyzing his vitals.

"All tests indicate that Kevin’s soul and body are fine. He simply refuses to wake up."

The healer pointed to the data displayed on the alchemical instruments.

Black glanced at the strange, multi-colored reagents in the transparent vials, but he did not understand them. He turned his attention to Kevin. Kevin’s eyes were tightly shut, his face twisted in agony, sweat soaking through several towels.

"His 'Darkness of Heaven' mark is intact?"

Black Burn looked at the trembling, nightmare-stricken man and confirmed once more.

"Yes, the mark is complete. No issues."

"Can he be forcibly awakened... if he is merely dreaming?"

Black walked to Kevin’s side, drew a sharp dagger from his belt, and pressed it into Kevin’s shoulder. Blood welled up instantly, but Kevin remained unresponsive, his eyes still shut.

"No. You cannot wake a man who is pretending to sleep. His body is refusing all external stimuli, sealing itself off."

The healer shook his head, applied a potent healing spell to the wound, and stopped the bleeding.

"You must either wait for him to finish the nightmare or use drugs to shock him awake. But given his formal knight constitution, standard stimulants won't work. To affect him, you would need massive doses or more potent agents, which would cause irreversible damage."

The healer added a final note.

"No matter. Use them. The intelligence he possesses is more important." Black said dismissively, indifferent to the damage.

"Very well." The healer sighed and turned to fetch the drugs.

But at that moment, Kevin’s body, which had been unresponsive to all stimuli, began to tremble violently. The iron bed rattled, and his hand reached toward his waist, where his sword hung.

"No! Stop!" A sudden roar erupted from Kevin’s throat as he bolted upright like a spring.

His hand gripped his sword and slashed out with all his might, targeting an invisible enemy.

"Clang! Crack!" Kevin’s sword collided with another, thicker blade in the air. Sparks flew, and a shrill, metallic ringing filled the room.

In an instant, Kevin’s blade snapped in two, while the heavy sword that blocked him did not budge.

"Awake? What do you think you're doing?" Black’s low, majestic voice reached Kevin, who was still reeling from the nightmare. Kevin quickly regained his senses.

"I..." Looking at his broken sword and the blade drawn by the Flame Warrior, Kevin was at a loss for words. Had he just tried to attack Commander Black Burn?

"Enough. What you were doing is irrelevant, as long as you are awake. I have a question. Do not hide anything, and do not try to deceive my eyes." Black sheathed his sword.

"Yes." Kevin, still shaken from the nightmare and now struck by a new wave of fear, obeyed the commander’s order by instinct.

"You have been subjected to a psychic assault; by what means did you manage to withstand such a mental onslaught?" Black’s gaze locked onto Kevin’s eyes, his expression inscrutable, radiating an overwhelming, oppressive intensity.

"It was... a novel method for mitigating psychic contamination within the Night’s Edge, known as the 'Prayer Communication Network'."

Kevin faltered, recalling his final actions: offering a prayer to the Lady of Night and tapping into the very network the capital’s Night’s Edge had described.

"A Prayer Communication Network? It pertains to faith, then—which deity?

"I do not recall any such divine art within the Night’s Edge’s devotion to the God of Light."

Blackburn’s tone remained stern, casting doubt upon Kevin’s account.

"This is a deity of the Night’s Edge’s new faith, the Lady of Night; there is a registered church in the capital, and this is a new form of divine magic."

Kevin explained; the Prayer Communication Network was no secret among the members of the Night’s Edge or to the outside world, though they knew only of its connection to the Lady of Night, the identity of its creator remaining a mystery.

"The Lady of Night... I understand. Relay all the intelligence you gathered before losing consciousness to my subordinates, then prepare for the coming war."

Black issued his orders for Kevin’s next steps, then turned and strode out of the tent.

"Understood," Kevin replied with a salute.

The healer suddenly approached and patted Kevin on the shoulder; his face was obscured by specialized fabric, but the eyes visible beneath shimmered with a look of profound pity.

"What is it?" Kevin asked, slightly stunned, failing to grasp the healer’s intent.

"Nothing. Come, let us begin the treatment."

...

Blackburn paced through the encampment, ducking into a tent where a man dressed as a civil official was busy processing intelligence.

"Notify the capital. Investigate the 'Prayer Communication Network' within the Night’s Edge, the faith of the Lady of Night, and the identity of the creator of this 'Prayer Communication Network'."